


Interception

by slashmania



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Forged letters, Humor, Love Confessions, Love Letters, M/M, Romance, team work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2014-06-07
Packaged: 2018-02-03 17:37:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1753133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashmania/pseuds/slashmania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or 'How Arthur receives a love note... after everyone else in the warehouse has gotten their hands on it. A story in which Ariadne is too curious, Dom plans a way to make things right, Yusuf appeals to the group's better nature, and Eames just wants to get the heck out of the Denny's.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interception

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on fanfiction.net
> 
> https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9559504/1/Interception

Interception (Or how Arthur receives a love note- after everyone else in the warehouse has gotten their hands on it.)

As most stories start, this one can follow in the steps of most others that include a message that is delayed or delivered to the wrong person.

This was a love letter, and it reads like so.

_I just don't know how to tell you how I feel. I thought that there could be no better way than this. I think about you all the time. Day, night, awake or sleeping._

_You are just so lovely. It's in the way that you talk, and work, and just be yourself. You in and of yourself are lovely. If it was something that could be bottled you'd make a fortune and wouldn't have to be a Point Man._

_And I'd ask that you don't do that because you happen to be God's gift to dreamshare!_

_There are only so many reasons and factors I can give to you in writing in order to spell out what I am feeling and measure it out in a prescribed dosage. I'd be able to do so if I weren't already overdosing on the feeling myself!_

_So I'll say it to you now, write it out, the words that I've been working myself up to for quite some time._

_I love you, Arthur._

The unsigned note had more likely than not been a part of the flower delivery that had been sent to a dubious but still pleased Arthur. The note itself had been separated from the gift of flowers and been found at some point during the week and circulated amongst the dream workers, Arthur being the last to know on the following Monday morning.

Ariadne, the curious little Architect had found it first and positively devoured the handwritten text. The handwriting was done smoothly- it had to be the most perfect example of perfect penmanship that she had ever witnessed, and if anything, she would love to meet such a person that could write so beautifully.

Next Dom found it in Ariadne's possession, glanced at the words in the unfamiliar handwriting only to stop and have his eyes widen in surprise when he noticed his Point Man's name at the very bottom. This caused the Extractor to cough, become a little flushed with embarrassment, and shoot a look of cautious worry in the distracted Point Man's direction as he himself was packing up to leave for the night.

It had seemed best in Dom's opinion to gently fold the sweetly written words and slip them into his pocket, only to reveal them to Arthur when he had enough time to get over them himself. It wasn't because he didn't think that Arthur deserved such expressions or feelings. It was because he felt a little uncomfortable for having stumbled upon it at all.

After that, Yusuf got to read it on a social call at Dom's- finding it on the kitchen table between Dom's coffee cup and a plate of toast.

It took Yusuf no time at all to mention to Dom that it was important that the letter go to the intended recipient. To Dom, that meant 'Give Yusuf the note and stop feeling guilty'. And so he did just that!

Word of this letter was given to Eames, through Yusuf, who eyed Eames with a certain amount of expectation that came from being friends for so long. He expected Eames to admit that he had something to do with this little note and the present of the flowers that had been given a place of pride at Arthur's desk which was an amazing thing to begin with because Arthur never had anything but work related items on his desk and wasn't the type to have anything that personalized his work space period. The Chemist believed Eames to be the most likely suspect as he made no attempts to hide his affection for their Point Man. The only thing that Yusuf wanted to know was if it was a joke or a real sentiment.

But Eames only raised an eyebrow at the unsigned note, looking at it briefly before shrugging it off. "And _why_ do I have a note that is clearly meant for our dear Arthur?" he drawled in question. And further probing of the note, the flowers, or even the most thinly veiled questions as to whether or not Eames had been the one to send Arthur the gifts gained Yusuf nothing.

But Yusuf found that Eames' first question when shown the note was valid. Why in the hell did any of them have something that was meant for Arthur's eyes only?

That was an excellent question. And when it came to Dom through the grapevine of his dream working team, he could only think of one answer.

When they got back to work on Monday it was imperative that Arthur receive his note. Thankfully he had the backing of his team for this- minus Arthur, of course- and had the plan of where and how Arthur was meant to find the note on Monday morning, making it so Dom would no longer feel guilty embarrassment for having kept such a missive and also allowing it to be distributed to everyone _but_ the intended recipient.

The plan was to have it sitting innocently on his desk to be 'discovered' by Arthur. He could read it and…well Dom wasn't quite sure what Arthur's reaction or feeling would be once he found that he had more proof of an admirer. If his reaction to the flowers meant anything, the letter might merit a smile or even a pleased blush.

It turned out that Dom didn't have to plan for anything negative in response to the note he had intercepted by accident with the others.

The bright idea was to come in early and leave it sitting on Arthur's chosen place to work; the desk that was near to the outlet for the plug for his laptop power cord and was angled to keep the door in view because Arthur was more than a little paranoid at what could come through the doors or windows of their chosen warehouse.

It was Arthur's opinion that if a Point Man wasn't even a little bit paranoid about the situations they were involved in and the plans they had to make, they weren't taking their jobs seriously enough.

The idea was to leave the note and then exit the building to get something like coffee so they could give Arthur plenty of time to get into the warehouse _'before them'_ , discover the note, and then come in with their coffee to watch the outcome like confused and innocent spectators. It was perfect.

Perfect except for when Dom had come in to leave the note he found that Arthur was already there. He hadn't even opened the door and could see the signs- a light that was on and the sounds of who could only be _Arthur_ moving around the room and setting things up for their upcoming day. In a trash can nearby, Dom could also see the evidence of Arthur having done a quick clean up of the flowers he had received days before, wilted and old. Dom wished that it wasn't true.

But, no, why wouldn't it be? Up and working at an ungodly hour of the morning, it appeared that Arthur had been there for awhile.

Dom had to force himself to stop at the door and wave at the others- all of them there because they had already felt too involved to step to the side and allow Dom to take care of it himself.

As Yusuf and Ariadne gave Dom confused glances, Eames made a show of looking comfortable as he leaned against a wall with his eyes closed. He barely tried to suppress a snore that undercut Dom's tension nicely.

Dom glared in the Forger's direction to whisper.

"Stop it, damn it! We can't do it! He Is In There!"

His sentence was punctuated as he quickly pointed his finger at the closed door. If they were lucky, Arthur wouldn't be able to hear them. To prevent this, Dom tugged on Eames' arm and gestured that the others follow him farther down the hallway to diminish any noise they might possibly make.

"We have to come up with a new idea. As long as we're out here, let's go out to breakfast and go over our options."

Eames had woken up enough while being dragged to suggest IHOP.

* * *

They had reconvened at the local Denny's and Eames still hadn't shut up about how he didn't really like Denny's. That he liked Norms better, and still didn't understand why Dom had something against anything as wonderful as an international house that was made of _pancakes_.

The Forger was ignored as orders were made and then food and drink was received.

After the food was finished and refills made for coffee there was a silence that no one wanted to fill while at the table of the local Denny's. Quite honestly, they probably wouldn't have wanted to fill the silence at an IHOP or a Norms either.

Dom had stopped playing with the half and half containers and made his statement after he noticed that he had already arranged them into these neat rows by color and flavor. He pushed them away with one hand and tried to be serious.

"We have a problem," Dom began, looking at each member of his table in turn.

Not surprisingly it was Eames that said something.

"I don't know about your problems but my steak was undercooked, my over easy eggs tasted like rubber, and I still don't understand why you hate IHOP."

Eames was once again ignored by Cobb.

"Did he see you, Dom?" Ariadne asked. "We could have gotten this over with if he saw you. You just could have handed it over and said-"

Eames interrupted. "Yes! Of course! This is what Dom would have said if he did exactly what you have just suggested! 'Arthur!' he would say. 'I'm so sorry, but I happened to take away a special note of yours that came with your flowers!'"

Eames shook his head, still playing out the fake conversation. "'But what are you talking about Dom?' our dear Arthur would say, frowning of course. 'You would have never taken anything from me- you're like a brother to me and the only person in our group that would be so nosy as to _take something that wasn't theirs and blatantly look at it because she's so darned curious_ would be Ariadne.'"

When Ariadne stared, mouth open in a little 'o' of surprise, Eames just nodded his head sharply. "Truth hurts, love. You shouldn't have touched it. Really. And if you want to make sure it gets back to Arthur _you_ should do it and fess up. Taking things like a note off of a vase of delivered flowers while a man's not looking isn't very nice. And getting Dom to do the dirty work for you isn't quite nice either."

As Ariadne was getting over the blunt truths that Eames was sending her way, she almost tripped over what he had said that didn't mesh.

"But I didn't take it from the arrangement. I found it on the floor," she was saying in confusion. Her eyes narrowed a little, the cogs began to turn, and just as she was going to open her mouth and accuse Eames there was an interruption by the waitress who was smiling so hard it looked like her forced grin was flaking around the edges.

"More coffee?" she said, trying for chipper but really only reaching 'chirpy'.

Ariadne had been distracted by the offer of more caffeine and the half thought up idea of offering the poor ironically birdlike woman some of her granola to help sustain her. If they lived in a special kind of hell, the woman's name could have been Polly and Ariadne _might_ have given her a cracker.

But, no.

"That's enough Eames. We, as a team, will get this note back to Arthur." Dom said it with all the leadership he had, pulling out the letter from his pocket and laying it on the clean part of table next to his elbow.

Yusuf, who had been silent for most of the conversation and the meal, looked at the letter with a frown of concern.

"I don't mean to be picky, but," Yusuf sucked at his lower lip and forced himself to make eye contact with the Extractor. "Don't you think that a love note shouldn't be stained with jam?"

It was true.

There were jam stains from when James had had his breakfast at the table with Daddy who had been reading the note for the umpteenth time. James liked to put more jam on when his father isn't looking, so there are small droplets of purple boysenberry jam that decorated the right-hand margin of the note.

The 'hur' of 'I love you, Arthur' was partially obscured by a thumbprint of Ariadne's lipstick, a forgetful little swipe of the thumb underneath her lower lip as she tried to adjust a mistake made in the application probably occurred before she had picked up the note. Now, with the edit done in a cherry red, the bottom portion read 'I love you, Art'.

There were also the marks of several fingers and smudges.

It was folded and slightly crumbled and didn't look like a love note.

Yusuf had made a valid point. But who would they go to to reproduce this note exactly…

As one, Dom and Yusuf and Ariadne looked to Eames.

"We need to forge the love note." Dom said, sliding the soiled note in Eames' direction.

Eames glared weakly. He sniffed a little and looked at the note. "I just love it when you say 'we' when you really mean 'me'. I'll need a piece of paper- and a good pen. How about we go to a place that doesn't have syrup on every flat surface?"

* * *

"That's not what it looked like!" Ariadne said while leaning over Eames' shoulder. She stared down at the words that Eames was rewriting onto a piece of clean, blinding white paper that they were able to purchase from a store with ease.

Eames let out a frustrated sigh and glared at Ariadne.

"Are you a Forger, dear? Is your handwriting versatile? No, it's not! So please just let me finish this so you can give Arthur the note and we can all file into the warehouse separately to make this look less like a damned conspiracy!"

Ariadne buttoned her lip and turned to face Dom and Yusuf who were also tense with waiting. It wasn't that Eames was making it harder for them, it was just that a good forgery took time. While Eames was the best that didn't mean he could wave a magic wand and have it completed in a second.

They watched as the man paused and rubbed the side of his face, frustrated but focused, looked carefully at the way that the letters were formed and the sentences constructed.

Forgery was an art form for Eames and if they didn't respect it Arthur wouldn't get a loving recreation of the note he was originally meant to receive.

With a final swipe of the pen, Eames leaned away from the table outside the coffee shop they had found along the way to the warehouse, and pronounced it to be finished.

He carefully picked it up with two fingers on each side and gently blew on the still drying ink before turning to Ariadne and giving her a steely glare.

"You washed your hands?" he asked again.

She nodded and reached out for the letter.

"I won't fold it, or crumple it, or let anything stain it!" She pronounced holding the letter in the same careful way that Eames had, breathing a sigh of relief that was echoed by the others when it was in her hands, safely.

Dom nodded and picked up a tray of coffees he had purchased at the shop they had used the table of.

"This is the plan. Ariadne, you go first and deliver the letter to Arthur. I'll follow with the coffee. In fifteen minutes Yusuf will show up and Eames will be the very last to appear, late as always."

The plan was made, it was set, and after exchanging nods rather than high-fives or handshakes, they broke apart and followed the plan.

* * *

Eames was the very last to arrive.

When he did the atmosphere was quiet but tense, and almost thrumming with some kind of emotion that he couldn't immediately identify.

Quick eye flicks to his coworkers allowed him to learn nothing.

Dom's face was blank but he watched him carefully.

Ariadne's curiosity was back and she only half pretended to be busy working on her models or gathering her tools. He noticed that her desk was unusually neat too. Eames frowned harder.

Yusuf was nowhere to be seen and that kind of bothered Eames for some reason.

But, the man of the hour was present. Sitting at his desk, laptop open, coffee near to his left hand and the empty vase on the right side of the desk, was Arthur- perfect Arthur. Dressed to the nines, looking like he had walked off of a catwalk or fell out of a fashion magazine. His slicked back hair, his dark eyes, that _mouth_ …Eames was sure that he was one of the few people on Earth that wouldn't care if he was frowned at by this man!

If Eames wasn't careful he was going to do something stupid. Not that he hadn't already.

There was always the opportunity for other unfortunate things to happen, and this was confirmed when he noticed that sitting perfect and pristine on the Point Man's desk, was the letter Eames had forged.

Arthur looked away from his laptop immediately. It was something that Eames found to be pleasurable but also shocking- no matter what, Arthur was always aware of him and his comings and goings.

He couldn't stop the smile that grew on his face as he locked eyes with Arthur.

Be natural, he told himself.

"Good morning, darling!"

Arthur's eyes narrowed briefly before he stood up from his chair, walked away from his desk, and nearly passed Eames as he walked towards the door.

The Point Man paused just long enough to reach for the Forger's shoulder and tow him along with him. It was rather odd, Eames thought, to be tugged around like a wayward child or a piece of furniture by two different people within the space of a couple of hours. From the other man's posture and the set of his shoulders it was a good bet that they were not going to be going to an unsatisfactory breakfast.

"I believe I need to have a talk with you, Mr. Eames," Arthur said to the Forger before briefly calling over his shoulder. "I will be back in just a few moments."

* * *

"I would like to know why you wrote me a love note, Eames."

Eames blinked hard and pressed his back against the wall of the hall, much like he had this morning. He wasn't even going to play at being asleep for such an important conversation.

"Well, darling I would hope that it would be sort of self explanatory. You were sort of supposed to get it last week, but, um, Ariadne took it and passed it around to everybody before you could pick it up."

Eames fought the urge to tug at his shirt collar. "Did you like the flowers though?"

Arthur was giving Eames a look that was just too critical. It wasn't a glare. It was a look that weighed and measured him. It was a look that tried to tell the truth from a lie and wavered.

He sighed and nodded. "They were very lovely Eames. Thank you for the thought."

There was a brief moment where the tightness was gone from the Point Man's eyes, giving Eames the sensation that, inside of Arthur something had released a long held breath.

"Ariadne and Dom told me a little bit about the situation they had found themselves in when they had come into the possession of my note. They weren't entirely sure who would give me such a note and had tossed around a few odd ideas as it had come with the gift of flowers…but I believe at some point they began to go back to the most obvious of conclusions."

Arthur smiled and it was a smile that shone in his eyes. "You really are one of the only people that so diligently pursue and flirt with me, making you a leading suspect as to 'Who would leave a love letter to Arthur?' But, I don't think that they understood what you had done, Eames."

Eames couldn't help but smile back at the Point Man. It was a splendid sort of ruse. In a work place where they had a Forger on hand, whose handwriting was very versatile he could add with pride, it seemed kind of funny that no one had thought to ask for a sample of his writing.

In this case, it wouldn't have matched. But that was all according to Eames' plan anyways.

The sticking point would be to ask if anyone had ever really noticed what _Arthur's handwriting looked like?_ And the blunt answer would be that, no, they wouldn't because Arthur only typed and printed his reports. He didn't write anyone in the group letters (Hooray for text messages and email!) and hadn't had the opportunity to sign any birthday cards.

Eames' smile stayed firm as he had these thoughts, taking pleasure in a forge well done, and a con sort of successful.

"They never realized it? I thought that Ariadne was getting pretty close. But the icing on the cake had to be when they ruined the note and asked me to forge it so you could really receive a pristine copy."

"You," Arthur said with a shake of his head, sort of amused, "You wrote me an unsigned love note and left the biggest tell that it was from you, like a red herring- you forged the entire note in my own handwriting!"

Eames grin widened at the thought. He shrugged a little and sighed. "I've been in love with you for such a long time Arthur. I wasn't lying in the note when I said that there are so many reasons that make me love you. I even love your handwriting!"

Arthur rolled his eyes but pressed himself closer to the Forger, hands slipping up the man's chest to rest on his shoulders.

"Next," Arthur said while looking into Eames' eyes, "you'll tell me that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery."

As another thought came to mind, Eames chuckled and allowed himself the pleasure of snaking his arms around Arthur's waist, pulling him closer.

"Oh, darling." He said as he pressed a chaste kiss against the other man's cheek. "You've just paid a fine compliment to the best Forger!" He laughed aloud. "But there's nothing like the real thing, darling!"

As he moved in closer, pressing his lips firmly against Arthur's, he was happy in the knowledge that this message of love and admiration wasn't going to be intercepted by _anything_.

If this little story were to be folded up and placed into an envelope, pasted with a stamp, and addressed to the proper person it would surely bear the letters SWAK.

And the story ends, _sealed with a kiss_!


End file.
